A weekly fine fill of the Eucharist on Sunday,
back to work or school on the following Monday,
but Tuesday to cope with another banking rule,
while mid week signals, two more days of school.
Thursday is to wish for weekly spending thrift,
while Friday is for some reason God's fine gift,
then Saturday arrives to us just in its fun time,
perhaps this is the day to finish a little rhyme.
Looking forward to solace, but to me in sooth
each day holds significance and certain truth,
for if each day myself, myself can just bare,
perhaps in others I may find, those who care.
Enough of musing, now walk on grass soft as wool,
while my Shelties romp, play and on towels pull,
and my face wrinkles and my cotton cap flaps,
so my Lord will let us climb into heavens laps.
Here we see a vivid place, lovely as the snows,
where every star and comment streaks and flows.
Then, far-off Death seemed but to me a shade,
while on those heavenly branches my dreams made
the fruit filled branches and boughs spread,
before the life on earth we had all once lead.
The following Sunday morn, another week at rest
having fallen short in another quest and test,
having wandered and found by all to be so unfit,
but for my Lords love, I might not die of it. |
